Stripped

A/N: I don't have much to say, except that this chapter is dedicated to that one special person that couldn't wait to see Trish, Randy, and Adam again. You know who you are! I don't own 'em, but feel free to enjoy!

"I don't see the problem," Trish stated simply, her face twisted in sincere confusion.

Olivia sank to the practice mat below her and shrugged her thin shoulders. "It's just so complicated now," she sighed, leaning back until her head rested on the ropes behind her.

Trish hopped onto the turnbuckle and gathered her hair into a thick ponytail. Though she loved Randy to death, and Adam was tolerable enough, the Canadian diva had missed having Olivia around to balance the testosterone. At one time, Trish had found Stacy the easiest of confidantes, the best friend she had amongst the divas. But something had shifted and those days had passed.

Certain that Olivia's weekend away with John would cement her commitment to the company, Trish had set into motion a plan to begin training her friend as soon as the couple returned to the road. Sensing that Olivia was not the kind of woman that would be content to valet forever, the older of the divas had convinced management that she could teach the rookie some basics without cutting into her own training regiment.

"Sweetie," Trish's soft voice lilted through the old boxing gym. "Things are good with you and John, yes?" Olivia nodded. "And the kid is happy with his dad? Well-adjusted? In a good place?" Again, Olivia's dark hair swished around her shoulders. "Yeah, I wish my complicated decisions were that easy to make," she huffed.

Olivia rolled her green eyes. "Like you have hard decisions to make," she laughed. Trish feigned offense. "What? Which thong makes Randy harder? Is that your tough decision?"

"No," a deep voice answered as Randy entered from the locker room area. "That's easy. All thongs make Randy hard," he smiled, hopping onto the apron behind Trish and placing his hands on her thighs. He rested his chin on her shoulder and kissed the soft skin of her neck.

"Randy," she giggled, wiggling slightly out of his grasp. "There are other people here," she reminded him.

Rolling his eyes, the young man pulled back slightly, but kept his hands firmly affixed to her bare legs. Leaning forward, he rested his chest against her back and looked to the other side of the ring. "Those aren't people," he nodded to where John was offering Olivia a drink from a plastic water bottle. "That's just John and Olivia," he said.

John laughed and leaned his shoulder against Olivia's as he addressed his friend. "Gee, thanks," he said.

But if there was one emotion Randy Orton didn't feel, it was guilt. "Relax," he commanded. "It's like you're only people until I've seen ya naked and shit. Then you're just family." Slowly, it dawned on his companions that everyone in the room fell under that blanket. Randy smiled as the proverbial light bulbs went on over their heads. "See?"

"Then you've got a HUGE family, huh?" Trish asked, winking at the couple seated below her. "All those guys in the locker room, not to mention the strippers and the groupies," she went on to tease Randy.

Scooting forward slightly, Olivia nudged John's leg and slid back against his body, resting her hands on his knees. With his hands around her waist, she leaned back and rested her head on his shoulder, vaguely listening to her friends' conversation.

Trish was right, and Olivia knew it. There was no reason this decision should be complicated for her. She and John were in a great place. She had never felt about anyone the way she felt about him. There was something inherently sensual, but also incredibly innocent, about their relationship. When he held her, even loosely in a sweaty old boxing ring, she knew she was safe. The meaning of "at home in his arms" made sense to her when John's chest was pressed against her back and his hands were on her waist.

And Trish was right about Brandon, too. He was doing so much better than she had hoped, morphing back into the kid she knew he could be. Living with his father had provided him with a stability that she just couldn't give him. It was putting the kid's feet back on the ground, giving him a place to feel safe, too.

The only complication was that, while she loved being with John, she wanted Brandon to be her security. And while she was thrilled that Brandon was thriving in his father's house, she wanted to be the one that gave him a foundation. For ten years, they were dependent only on each other - and now other people were encroaching on their territory. In a matter of weeks, these men - Jack and John - had filled a void that neither Stewart had known was empty.

For too long, she had only known a life as Brandon's mom. And even when she felt like a failure at everything else, she could at least rest with the confidence that she knew how to be a mother. She might not have always been the best mom in the world, but she knew how to take care of her son. She knew how to make sure he had the clothing, food, and shelter he needed. She knew how to tuck him in at night and how to wake him up in the morning. She knew which cough was okay, and which needed a doctor's attention.

"All I am saying," Randy's deep voice interrupted her thoughts, "is that the world is a cold, ugly, painful place," he stated sincerely. "And I don't think it's fair to deprive this desolate land of the healing beauty that is - OUCH!" His hand went to the back of his head as he turned pained eyes to Trish. "Damn, woman!"

The blonde shot her boyfriend a look that said his idiocy was giving her a headache. "Baby, stop talking." She ran her hand along his cheek and gave him a sweet smile.

Randy frowned slightly, rubbing the back of his head once more. "It was a compliment," he insisted.

John just laughed at his friend as Olivia laid her head on his shoulder. "It's not like I told her she couldn't dance anymore, man," he reminded. "I just said that I would support her if she chose not to."

Grunting as she stood from the mat, Olivia held a hand out to John. "And right now, she chooses to do nothing but go home and take a hot bath." When John stood, she gave him her saddest eyes and let her bottom lip pout out slightly. "I hurt," she whispered.

"Awe," John cooed, dropping a gentle kiss on her lips. "Let's get you back then," he smiled, weaving his fingers through hers.

He wasn't sure he had stopped smiling since that night in her hotel room more than a week ago, but now he was sure he was grinning wide enough to break his own face in two. It was as if their night in Jacksonville had set something inside both of them free, something they hadn't even known was chained. She was more affectionate, he laughed a little louder. There was a comfort level between the couple that brought an ease to others around them. And when they were alone? Explosive.

By the time they had arrived back at the hotel, all four young adults were laughing together and planning the rest of their afternoon. John and Randy carried Olivia and Trish on their backs as they made their way through the hotel parking garage. Randy was entertaining them all with some song about laffy taffy when Trish pointed over his shoulder.

"Isn't that Adam?"

Sure enough, a disheveled Adam was climbing out of the backseat of a little Red Accord. "I thought he was too tired to hang with us today," John stated.

"Clearly, he was not too tired to fuck in the back of a very small car," Randy said, a little too loudly. His deep voice rattled through the echoing halls of the garage and Olivia leaned over to smack the back of his head before Trish could. "Dammit! I'm gettin' sick of bein' your whipping boy," he turned a harsh glare at both woman.

Trish just put her hand over his mouth. "Would you shut up?" She pointed again to where Adam was holding the door open. Without saying a word, they waited to see who got out of that car. More than likely it would be someone they didn't know – Adam was always with some random groupie.

"FUCK ME!" It was Olivia's voice that bounced off the hollow walls around them, and finally drew the attention of the covert couple, now standing like two deer in bright headlights about a hundred yards from them.

Adam smiled, ran a hand through his hair, and offered a wave to his friends. Stacy looked like she might throw up.